


My Promise. My Heart. My Life.

by OftenEvening



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, College is background only, Exiled Fae in Human World, M/M, Mild Violence happens once in story, Minor Original Character(s), One Shot, Prince Kang Yeosang, Some texting, There's A Tag For That, Yeosang and San are bound together by the gods, moderate swearing, sansang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23397193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OftenEvening/pseuds/OftenEvening
Summary: “Thaedl dueni.” Breaking the most important promise a Fae could make. Wonderful royal example he was. “Thaedl dualmi.” Heart. Giving up his heart, too. But it hadn’t been his for a long time. “Thaedl dutani.” When had San ever not been his life? Everything before the binding was vague and blurry. “Thaedl niliata.” Bloodsworne, no longer mine. No longer his. He felt dizzy.Or:Yeosang feels he owes San complete freedom, though the price is dangerously high; San has never wanted it, and is determined to stop him before it's too late.
Relationships: Choi San & Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 27
Kudos: 92





	My Promise. My Heart. My Life.

**Author's Note:**

> To make it clear, there is a short scene with violence--a physical fight--but it's self-defense.

“This performance is driving me crazy,” San groaned. “My part, I mean. You two are great. I need to practice more.”

“We can do that,” Daehyun said with a smile. He patted San’s arm. “It’ll be fine. For someone who hasn’t been dancing long—”

“You have great form.” Eunhye interjected. “And your facial expressions are better than mine.”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“No arguing,” Daehyun said, “He has definite talent—and his memory!”

“The sword dancing?” Eunhye asked with a laugh.

Yeosang raised an eyebrow at San. “Sword dancing.”

“They weren’t real swords,” he grumbled back.

“You should’ve seen it, Yeosang. History of dance class, this flawless routine. He was watching so closely, I thought he was into one of the dancers.” Eunhye smirked. “But it was just the moves. You know how I know that?”

Yeosang glanced at Seonghwa, his head tilted back, staring at the sky, lips twitching. Then he looked at San, smiling at the storyteller.

Folding his hands politely, he supplied the demanded question. “How did you know that?”

“Because when we went over to your apartment later that evening—you were out? The library, I think? Anyway, when the two of us went over to the apartment, the door was left a little open, which he still does, even after months of us reminding him how dangerous that can be, we walked in on him performing parts of the sword dance, but with sushi knives! He could have injured himself!”

“Sushi knives?” Seonghwa inquired.

“Improvising,” San responded.

“But it was so cool!” Eunhye gushed. “I wish I could have seen it with real swords.”

“Real swords lead to real blood, and properly cleaning a bloodied sword is not much fun,” Yeosang said reflectively.

Two faces looked back at him with confusion. Seonghwa covered his mouth. San hurried into speech.

“Been reading some warrior-type source materials lately, Yeosangie?”

His lip curled. To lose his real name, and then for his new one to be made _cute?_ Good reminder, though.

“It is difficult to analyze the economic impact of military conflicts without reading source materials. And, yes, I have a paper due on that topic.”

Daehyun stood up, dinner tray in hand. “Speaking of assignments, let’s go practice the choreo, yeah, San? Where are you two headed?”

Lightly placing his lunch tin in his satchel, Seonghwa spoke first. “Late shift at work, unfortunately. I’ll go with you partway. Yeosang?”

“To look for more source materials. See you when I see you, San.”

Yeosang waved off the other four. When they had disappeared from sight, he set down his chopsticks and sighed. Sword dancing. Made sense he’d miss blades. He knew he did. No gym routine could equal the intensity of weapons practice. Nor was it as fun. He traced the silverwork surrounding one of the rubies his sister had given him. The jeweler had liked the ring design and asked to replicate it. It had amused him to give permission. Royal Fae heirloom replicas in circulation around the human world. His father would have a fit. Come to think of it, some Visitors might find it offensive if they stumbled on them. He shrugged. Couldn’t please everyone.

After returning his tray, he walked slowly toward the library. Seeing a crowd ahead of him, Yeosang veered away to a shortcut. He gently spun the ring back and forth on his finger. San crushing on humans with fake swords. Not a chance. Before Exile, the weapons master had been the other’s focus for years. He wished he could wake up tomorrow to an appointment, to discuss the engraving of a new dagger. Or to watch him spar with San, who could, after all this time, _occasionally_ not lose.

A hint of movement, and he spun to the left. Two men—he’d been correct. Humans were so loud.

“That ring and your wallet. We’d like them.”

“No.”

“There’s two of us, we’ve got knives, and you’re alone. You don’t want to piss us off. Just throw over the ring and wallet and run.”

This was their approach?

“Don’t laugh at us,” one man snapped, and flicked open a switchblade.

“Please tell me you change up the threats with each robbery. To make it interesting.”

They stopped and stared.

“What? Oh, fine. My wallet’s in my backpack. I’ll have to set it down to get it for you.”

“No one puts wallets in backpacks.”

“Some people do, to preserve the aesthetics of an outfit.” He smiled at them as he pulled the backpack off his shoulders. “But I’m sure you don’t want fashion advice, so I’ll stop pretending.”

He launched the pack towards the further man, who fell backwards under its weight, sidestepped a jab from the switchblade, then kicked the hand that held it. The knife skittered away as the man cried out.

“That’s a truly poor tactic. Learn hand to hand, when the break heals.” Another kick behind the man’s knee, and as he fell, he grabbed the injured hand and his shoulder, and twisted upwards until cracks were heard. Shoving him to the ground, he whipped back to the other man, two feet away.

“Oh, excellent,” Yeosang said cheerily. “You’re right on time.” He dropped down as the man lashed out where his head had been. “And just as predictable.” He drove a fist into the other’s belly, and as he hunched slightly with a gasp, popped up with a punch to the jaw, head snapping back on impact. Yeosang slid backwards to look at the two, now on the ground. One out, one whimpering in pain.

Pain? He was feeling a slight bit of pain himself. He looked down at his arm. Ah. Somewhere between the gut punch and the knockout, the man must’ve gotten lucky. He sighed. No library. Back home, to clean, disinfect, and patch up. And change clothes. So tiresome.

Thaedl dueni. Thaedl dualmi. Thaedl dutani. Thaedl niliata.

It was late in the afternoon when he heard the door buzzer. Yeosang looked through the peephole. He knew that face. He opened the door and stepped back.

“Come inside.”

The other entered. “Where is—”

“San,” Yeosang interrupted. “That’s his name here. He’s out.”

“Is that wise?”

“This world is different, and we’ve adjusted. Being, as we are, Exiles, I consider it a positive achievement.”

“Even if it puts you in danger?”

“What danger? I’m perfectly capable of handling unfortunate encounters by myself. In fact, I have.”

“Here!”

“Yes, here. My skills _have_ advanced since my first lessons.”

“You had more practice, as well as more natural ability than your half-brother ever had.”

Yeosang paused. “Had. What’s happened? We’ve only been gone a few years.”

“The Southeastern kingdom grew restless.”

As if that area was ever calm.

“Which brother?”

“Which do you think?”

“My eldest? How ironic. Not that I wished him dead, of course.”

“No,” came the polite reply, “just that he would return in his next life as an insect.”

“May he be so lucky. But why are you here?”

“No one else has successfully led armies against a Southeastern mage.”

“Again? The same damn bloodline?”

“Yes. Your king needs you.”

“I’m an Exile. I step through that portal, I die.”

“The Edict is revoked. You could now be considered…a Visitor, except you have soldiers waiting. You must return.”

San would have to be called. Unless….

“Was it revoked for me, alone?”

“In your name. There is never a need to mention a Bloodsworne.”

How they’d both hated that.

“Then he stays.”

The general looked back at him steadily. “You cannot be on two sides of a portal and live. Nor would he appreciate you taking this decision on his behalf.”

“His preferences are irrelevant. If he is unnamed, I have discretion. Write down the words.”

“Your Highness. If only _you_ say them, you pay a steep price. If it is too high, bringing you back will be pointless.”

“If it goes that poorly, my father can issue another Edict.” Use logic. You will not get the words without logic. “Did it occur to anyone that it might be unwise to send _both_ of us, at once?”

“There is…merit in that. But you have always been together. That’s how it works.”

“Then thank my deceased brother’s spirit for letting us realize options in Exile. Write the words down. Pencil and paper are over there.” Yeosang pointed to the kitchen counter.

With a sigh, the general paced over and stared down. “It will hurt him.”

“Short-term.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“He will see the rationale.”

“You have never led forces alone.”

“Do you think me incapable?”

“No. Never.” He bowed his head and scrawled out the words.

“A certain Fae will hunt us down, though, if protocols are not observed.” Yeosang smiled faintly. “He can process the paperwork. When you return, we leave.”

After the door closed, he leaned against a wall. He could, he hoped, guarantee San his freedom. Eight words to repeat for every year since they’d been bound. It shouldn’t take too long.

**Me:**   
Dancers all ready?

**San:**   
Almost! Eunhye is so excited. And Daehyun!

**Me:**   
And you?

**San:**   
Of course. The lights and the music.  
It’s never going to get old.

**Me:**   
Do be careful with your dance partners.  
Don’t get their hopes up.

**San:**   
I know better than that.  
Them-Us.

**Me:**   
Not like fairy tales.  
Even so, I’m glad you enjoy this life.  
You’ve earned it, so many times over

**San:**   
You sound off. Should I come back?

**Me:**   
No, sorry. My brain is fried. Just babbling.  
I have those days, remember?  
What was that battle we reviewed…I can’t recall….

**San:**   
Hah! That’s true.  
You got stuck in your head. Too many possibilities.

**Me:**   
Who needs games when one can draw five alternate plans of engagement?

**San:**   
Well, games weren’t something we were ever allowed.

So many things unallowed, or no time for, he had never thought of them. San had. He’d wanted more. He walked toward the kitchen.

**Me:**   
True.  
May you have a wonderful time, all of you.

**San:**   
I thank you, my prince.

**Me:**   
San!

**San:**   
What? No one but me will see this.

**Me:**   
You must always be careful.  
What you say.  
The words you utter.  
What you reference.  
Don’t let them know.  
Ever.

**San:**   
I’ve covered for you plenty of times since we arrived.

**Me:**   
I know. I am sorry.

**San:**   
That’s twice you’ve apologized.

**Me:**   
You’ll be apologizing if you make them wait.

**San:**   
I’m almost done!

**Me:**   
Be safe.

**San:**   
Thanks!

Yeosang stared at the phone for a minute longer. He touched the piece of paper. How much time did he have left? He went back to his contacts list. The only person he could trust to tell. The only person who could help.

**Me:**   
Seonghwa-hyung.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
Pardon?

**Me:**   
It’s appropriate.  
In this world.  
Isn’t it?

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
From you?  
Not really.

**Me:**   
I need this…favor.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
Oh. A favor. I’ll be going.

**Me:**   
Please don’t.  
This is important. San.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
Is he sick?

**Me:**   
No, though he won’t feel well for a while.  
Mostly, he won’t understand.  
I need you to help him.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
If you’re trying to unnerve me, you’re doing well.

**Me:**   
Do remind yourself you’re a diplomat by training.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
This is official?

**Me:**   
Very good.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
100 years. One does not forget.

**Me:**   
You were not a diplomat for 100 years.  
Maybe, what, 70?

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
So picky.  
What am I to help San with, that you can’t?

**Me:**   
I had a messenger.  
The Edict is revoked.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
That’s…remarkable.  
Why would he need my help in that?

**Me:**   
It’s in my name only.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
He’s your Bloodsworne.

**Me:**   
I know. But he is not named, so…

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
It’s implied. It’s insulting, but it’s implied.  
Wait. You’re using that as an out. Why?

**Me:**   
To keep him safe. At least for now.  
My eldest brother is dead, in battle.  
My father needs me back for the next advance.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
You have other siblings.

**Me:**   
None who’ve campaigned, and won, against a Southeastern mage.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
Again?

**Me:**   
Again.  
It seemed wisest not to send us both at once.  
If it’s needed, he can be summoned later.  
He’s out celebrating the end of finals.  
I cannot tell him this through text.  
He might, possibly, forget himself, and create a scene.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
You’re leaving now?

**Me:**   
Very soon.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
What reason am I giving him?  
That you’re abandoning him?

**Me:**   
Find something more diplomatic than _that_.  
And don’t be so insulting. This is thought through.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
I need information to be diplomatic.

**Me:**   
Remind him we’ve done well, separately, in this world.  
We do not need to be together to face difficulties.  
Remind him of the logic of keeping him here, for now.  
That’s how battles are fought in this world.  


**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
People will wonder where you’ve gone.

**Me:**   
The general’s taking care of that.  
San will be back here tomorrow.  
Let him know then.

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
You’re aware he’ll be upset.

**Me:**   
The second Fae to state the obvious.  
This is the best option, overall.  
What is necessary isn’t always what pleases.  
Will you help him understand?

**Seonghwa-ssi:**   
It seems I must.  
No one else will be around to explain.

**Me:**   
Precisely why I needed you.  
Thank you.

Thaedl dueni. Thaedl dualmi. Thaedl dutani. Thaedl niliata.

Seonghwa turned his phone over and over in his hands. A few minutes had passed since his last message from Yeosang. Unease was growing in him. He couldn’t decide what to do, but no one sent to rush the prince home would be slowed down by anything in the human world. Except….

“Seonghwa? What do you need?”

“There is a general from Yeosang’s Court, filling out withdrawal papers for him as we speak, yes?”

“I believe I saw a stiff-backed figure enter the outer office a while ago.”

“A huge mistake is about to happen, unless you can delay him.”

“Our magics don’t work on other Fae.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you try that. He’s military. He won’t be happy right now. Bloodsworne go into battle together, especially when they’re more effective as a team. Yeosang’s decision will be grating on his nerves.”

“Yeosang’s going back, alone? How?”

“Exile’s been revoked. It sounds like a war coming. San…San doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t know,” the other repeated. “Have you ever seen San in a rage?”

“I have not.”

“I have. No words do it justice.”

“Is the general still there?”

“Yes. The receptionist…just spilled coffee on his paperwork. It will have to be reprinted, redone, and then signed by me, of course. I can find ways to buy you two hours. Whatever you think you can do in that time, do it.”

Street noise background filled the phone, San loudly speaking over it, “Seonghwa-hyung? What’s up?”

“Get somewhere quiet, right now.”

“O….kay. Hey, Daehyun—Eunhye went off for tteokbokki, right? Shouldn’t we get some chicken skewers, too? Yeah. I’ve just…got to take this call.”

The sounds faded. “What’s wrong?”

“I need you to listen. I don’t want to have this conversation on the phone, but time’s too short. Yeosang’s going to be angry with me, but I owe your king my life. Exile to this world, instead of sending me back to my Court and death.”

“Yeosang angry?” The background noises grew further away. “I’m on my way back. Keep talking.”

“He said to tell you tomorrow, but that will be much too late. And this isn’t right.”

“I knew something was messed up. He apologized to me—”

“What?”

“Two times! _And_ pretended not to remember the final battle his own grandfather fought.”

“Yeosang lied?”

“I just said that. I have to get past, thank you. What else? I’m moving as quickly as I can.”

“Short version: a general’s here. Your king has revoked Exile. There’s a mage in control of the Southeastern kingdom. The prince in command, and I don’t know how many others, are dead, leaving only you two with the right experience. You were not mentioned in the Edict; he said he would keep you here, safe, as a reserve force.”

“But he can’t,” San said flatly.

“That’s what he’s doing right now, which is why you have to hurry.”

“No. You don’t get it. By our kingdom’s rituals, Bloodsworne cannot be kept on different sides of a portal. It’s death.”

“He never mentioned that.”

“It’s a vulnerability, so it’s not discussed. It’s—fuck, ow.”

“What? Did you fall?”

“No, I…oh, no. You do not get to do this, _prince_.”

“Do what? What is he doing?”

Thaedl dueni. Thaedl dualmi. Thaedl dutani. Thaedl niliata.

San pressed his free hand into his side, the pain fading, then returning again. Yeosang had no right to do this. He quickened his speed.

“There is,” he gritted out through another dart of pain, “a chant to break a binding. If both those bound say it together, it ends.”

“I’ve never heard of that.”

“It’s rare.” How _dared he_? “If one party alone tries to do it, there is suffering for both. As a warning. If it proceeds, that one pays half his life.”

He could see the apartment building. He broke into a run.

“Half his life.”

“Yes.”

“As in…”

“Without. Temple sanction. It’s insult. To the gods. Number of years. Fated to live. He loses. Half.”

“Goddess of Mercy!”

“She won’t. He’s insulting her. And the rest. Punishment.”

“Hurry, then!”

“I am!”

“I’ll take care of the others. Somehow.”

“Right. Bye.”

Thaedl dueni. Thaedl dualmi. Thaedl dutani. Thaedl niliata.

“Thaedl dueni. Thaedl dualmi. Thaedl dutani. Thaedl niliata.” Yeosang closed his eyes against the wave of nausea. It receded again.

“Thaedl dueni. Thaedl dualmi. Thaedl dutani. Thaedl niliata.” How many more repetitions were left? San’s freedom. Worth it.

“Thaedl dueni. Thaedl dualmi. Thaedl dutani.” He swallowed hard. He remembered when he’d said those six words. “Thaedl…,” he hated the next word. He hated it so much. Why the hell did this have to happen? They’d been adjusting. But he owed him this. “Niliata,” he choked out. It was getting worse each time. He hadn’t known that. Would he pass out before he could finish?

“Thaedl dueni.”

Bloodsworne, my promise.

“Thaedl dualmi.”

Bloodsworne, my heart.

“Thaedl dutani.”

Bloodsworne, my life.

“Thaedl niliata.”

Bloodsworne, no longer mine.

He briefly pressed a hand to his mouth. It really did feel like he was going to throw up. He should have known it wasn’t just his life. The divines were angry, and they were making sure he knew it. Each time the misery faded was a reminder he could stop. But that was selfish.

He stared down at the paper. “Thaedl dueni.” Breaking the most important promise a Fae could make. Wonderful royal example he was. “Thaedl dualmi.” Heart. Giving up his heart, too. But it hadn’t been his for a long time. “Thaedl dutani.” When had San ever not been his life? Everything before the binding was vague and blurry. “Thaedl niliata.” Bloodsworne, no longer mine. No longer his. He felt dizzy. So sick.

“Thaedl du—”

The door to their apartment slammed open. He lifted his head. Damn Seonghwa. The door was shoved shut, and in seconds San was yanking him off the chair, a hand clapped over his mouth.

“Stop it.”

He was sweating and out of breath. He must have run here. Yeosang waited for his breathing to regulate, then peeled off the other’s hand.

“It’s my choice,” he said quietly.

“What for?”

“You never wanted to go back. I have to.”

“Then I’ll go, too.”

“You were not named in the Edict.”

“Because it was assumed I’d return with you. Which I will.”

“San…,” he sighed. “You adjusted so quickly to life here. All the freedoms. All the new chances. The music.” He smiled. “Dancing. This whole world to explore. What’s back home? Another power-hungry mage. Another war. The last time took…11 years?”

“Eleven years is not that much against a possible lifespan of 800 to 900 years,” San observed coolly.

“This might take longer.”

“And so?”

“And so?” Yeosang shook his head. “You love it here. You told me you didn’t want to go back. You’re so full of joy here, every day. Big things. Small things. You’re just…happy. This…” he touched the paper. “This guarantees you all that.”

“Does it?” San asked in a hard voice. “Permanently?”

Of course not. But he could try.

“It depends on the outcome. If I fail, they might send an Edict just for you. But I don’t plan to fail.”

“You’d do this, give up half your fated life, while I wait to see if they send for me later? They can’t reverse time, only return what was originally intended—and that has to be in person. So, if this war lasts twenty years, and you _die_ , Yeosang, and they send for me, I’ll be about 40, in human terms. I won’t be capable of doing what I can do now. What use would I be then? How delightful.” He bit out. “All that time, knowing my Bloodsworne, no, my _former_ Bloodsworne, had given up centuries of his existence so I could _play_. And then it could end, and what I’d wanted now, but was denied, I’d be unable to do—defend my kingdom, help lead an army against another fucking mage. Out of shape, out of practice, who would trust such an Exile returned after 20 years, hm?”

“Then I’ll take another Bloodsworne. Train them. They could take over.”

“You’ll…you’ll take _another_? Great. But what if your fated life, Yeosang,” San spat at him, eyes glittering with fury, “is shorter than most Fae. What if your penalty for ending this binding means your life is cut so short, you die a _natural_ death in a few weeks? So, _wow_ , okay, then I’ll be called over, able to physically handle everything, but _mentally_? What kind of gods-damned toll do you think that would take on me, after having been bound to you for nearly two centuries! Did you think about that? No! You sent me text messages to enjoy my night out, thinking, what, I wouldn’t notice stabs of pain while you recited those words 198 times? Maybe not at first, but eventually, I’d realize something was _wrong_ , I’d think I was _sick_ , I’d come home, and you’d be _gone_. And since you told Seonghwa not to _bother_ me until tomorrow, I wouldn’t even know what had happened for _hours_! No, I take that back. If you weren’t here, and I couldn’t reach you, I’d have been terrified. I’d have called everyone. Seonghwa would’ve had to tell me. And then? I’d have lost it, made it clear to everyone we aren’t even human. The whole Fae world! Exposed! Because I’d have fallen apart. Because you chose this absolutely shitty way to _help me?_ You’ve never been so stupid in the entire time I’ve known you. Which is _longer_ than 198 years.”

Yeosang narrowed his eyes, and shoved San away. “It’s because you love your freedoms, idiot. Freedoms you lose if I don’t do this. Say we went back, survived this new war, someday, my sister inherits the throne, I’m promoted to High Advisor! A permanent court position. You know what that means? It means you’re stuck at court permanently, too. Even less freedom than before. Not only bodyguard, but the only person I could or would trust with _secrets_. Court secrets. Political schemes. To advise the Queen, I’d need you nearby, to help me gather information, analyze it, put it in a fucking report. Which, yeah, I’d be the one to deliver, but to do all that, to stay sane, I would _need_ you there every day. And you would _hate_ that. We go back, we stay back, more caged than before. You want _that_?” He shoved him again.

“I am trying so hard not to punch you right now. Give me a second. And don’t you dare start up with that chant, or I’ll knock you out. You think the general would object to that? To me going along any way I chose?”

San whirled away from him, clenching and unclenching his hands, stalking to the window then back again, glaring at him every time he neared the kitchen counter. The fourth return, he stopped.

“That was useless. I’m still mad. You’re still stupid.”

“I am not. I thought it through. You’re the one being irrational, like a rejected lover.”

“The last two words in that chant _are_ a rejection. And as to lovers, we _were_ , for decades, weren’t we? And since humans and Fae aren’t even remotely compatible, it _had_ occurred to me that could be a possibility in the future. Here. But that’s irrelevant.”

“Yes, irrelevant! Because I’m going back and you’re staying here! He’s returning soon, and I haven’t finished this!” Yeosang shook the piece of paper.

San grabbed it and tore it in half.

“Like I actually needed that. The last phrase is so nauseating to say, it’s burned in my memory.”

“Don’t say it again.”

“What? Thaedl niliata?”

“Stop it!”

“It doesn’t have an effect without the other three phrases said before it.”

“I don’t care! Bloodsworne, no longer mine? Why? Why would you take that _away from me_?”

Yeosang shook his head. “You’re not understanding. It doesn’t erase our years together. It just…gives you freedom.”

“Freedom.”

“Yes.”

“Fuck freedom.”

“What?”

“How free do you think I will feel, unbound? Trapped here, until I die, or, worse, I get a messenger sent to me that you’ve died? Maybe they’ll want me to take your place. Maybe I’ll be too old. You keep reading those words, you’re chaining me, not freeing me. 198 years, bound by three words: dueni, dualmi, dutani. String them together: ‘I promise my heart and my life to you.’ Vows of marriage aren’t much more detailed. And you think taking that away will make me _happy_?”

Princes do not cry.

“I have to go back. For you to stay here, there’s no other way. You’d never agree to say the words together.”

“Which should make it clear to you I don’t want to be unbound! We have both spent how long, fully aware we could die on any battlefield? But not separate. Not separate like this. Do not do this to me. Do not do this to yourself. We’ve only ever led armies, together. I can…I can see there being a slightly logical argument to be made for keeping one of us back, but at the same time, since we’ve never planned that way, never fought that way, it could lead to so many losses. Think about that.”

Unbinding like this didn’t make people mentally unstable. It just hurt, and, if you were stubborn enough to force it through, cut your life short. What he said was true. They’d made it through every battle, every war, together. Without the glamours to cover them, their bodies had so many scars. A few marked days watching the other hover between life and death, praying to the gods and goddesses that those times were not _the_ time.

“I don’t know how long of a war this will be.”

“We never do. Mages or no mages.”

“We won’t ever be allowed to come back here.”

“I know. Think of it as a strange vacation.”

“A vacation?”

“I studied dance. You studied economics and history. It isn’t my fault you didn’t have as much fun.”

“Someone had to ensure future income.” Yeosang paused. “Your friends.”

“Seonghwa will figure something out. They’re human. His magic works on them. He could tell them the truth, as if it were a story, ease it past memory into that funny feeling that maybe something strange once happened. Humans ignore clues like that all the time.”

One final try.

“You weren’t given a true choice 198 years ago. This gives you a way out.”

“If I had hated it, I could have asked to be released.”

“It isn’t that simple, when you’re bound to royalty.”

“No, but it can be done. I did want more of the freedoms, the options, that others had, and I found many here. I have loved not worrying about manipulative bastards like your brother. This world is no paradise, though. There are cruelties here, equal or surpassing any joys. Court can be vicious, but I understand how it works. I know my abilities and my strengths, there. I know its dangers far better than anything in the future, here.”

“You make home sound very enticing,” Yeosang commented.

“Of course, there are good things! But what you were doing? That’s you thinking here’s better for me. Here, without you. It doesn’t matter what we are. Friends. Lovers. Bloodsworne and prince. In any of those, we’re together. That you would do _this_ …is I guess in a really fucked-up way honorable, but it’s _stupid_. They need us both. I need you. Don’t you need me?”

He’d lost. He’d tried, and he’d lost.

“Until my last day.”

San let out a long, shaky breath, and closed his eyes.

“Damn you for putting me through that.”

Yeosang sent a text message to the coordinator. Two withdrawals. He laughed shortly.

“What?’

He looked up from his phone, to meet San’s eyes.

“Imagining the general being _happy_ with more paperwork.”

“Probably relieved, more than happy. Would _you_ have wanted to be the one to tell the king that his son had halved his life to leave the best tactician behind?”

“The best? While you’ve been studying jazz, ballet, and I don’t know what else, _I_ was reading histories of military engagements from around the world. Add the new ideas I gained from them to my practical knowledge, I far surpass you, now.”

“You get stuck in your head. I don’t.’

“I have more _in_ my head than you.”

“I’m in better shape than you. You’ve been sitting and reading. I’ve been _moving_. Which of us will find it easier to get back into combat?”

“As if we both haven’t gone to the gym every single day. I was never so foolish as to use sushi knives for dancing.”

“No, you just got into a fight, and got slashed by a switchblade.”

“I was barely injured. Can’t say the same for them. Did you have any physical encounters this entire time, hm?”

“You’re so annoying.”

“I thought I was stupid.”

“That, too.” San hesitated. “Don’t ever do that again. Nothing like that. Promise.”

“I promise. On my heart and my life, I promise.”


End file.
